


You Aren't Alone

by cloverfield



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Acceptance, Anti-Depressants, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Gen, Gift Fic, Healing, M/M, Medication, Mental Illness, Modern AU, Prescription Medication, Supportive Relationships, You Are Stronger Than You Know, You are not alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24507157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverfield/pseuds/cloverfield
Summary: For a few seconds his eyes are wet and his throat tight, but then his fingers are already popping the first of what will be many pills, the thick capsule bursting from its packaging with a foily crinkle, and he scoops it up with fingertips that feel far too clumsy as it tumbles to the laminate with a muted clatter.It’s almost disappointing how easy it is to swallow down something that means so much with only a mouthful of water.
Relationships: Fay D. Fluorite/Kurogane
Comments: 10
Kudos: 55





	You Aren't Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Fai and coming to terms with his prescription.

The crumple of the paper pharmacy bag is incriminatingly loud in the dark silence of the kitchen, and Fai flinches, listening hard for the distant sound of running water from the ensuite bathroom. The tap’s still on, though, and no footsteps echo out, so he fishes the folded pamphlet out from the packet – intimidatingly thick, and lined with tiny black text he can’t yet bear to read; side effects and warnings and absolutions of responsibility that make his skin crawl – and takes out the box that cost him twenty-two dollars and ninety cents; sets it down silently on the bench and stands there trembling in the shadows, the light from the hallway bleeding out in a glowing puddle that spills up against the kitchen tiles.

The bathroom tap turns off, and before Fai can muster the courage to shove the paper bag and the starkly-labelled box and its terrifying contents off the bench and into the bin beside the fridge, Kurogane sticks his head around the alcove corner, haloed in light from the fluorescent in the bathroom and halfway through brushing his teeth. “You coming to bed or what?” he says – except since he’s still got his toothbrush in his mouth it comes out sounding like _oo omin o beb oh wha?_ and Fai has to snort when Kurogane scrubs at the tiny flecks of toothpaste foam that speckle his chest with an irritated frown.

“Yeah,” he says softly, voice crackling a little. Fai swallows, hard enough to feel his throat bob nervously, and tries again. “I’m coming,” he says firmly, and opens the small box with his new medication, aware of Kurogane watching his fingers fumble across the foil blisters. “I just have to. Uh.”

“-‘wigh,” mumbles Kurogane, which Fai takes to mean _alright_ , and disappears back into the bathroom. The tap turns on again, and Fai mirrors it, filling up a clean glass with cold water from the sink and placing in on the bench with a soft _clunk_. And Fai knows his husband has retreated not just to rinse out his mouth but to give him _privacy_ , and for a few seconds his eyes are wet and his throat tight, but then his fingers are already popping the first of what will be many pills, the thick capsule bursting from its packaging with a foily crinkle, and he scoops it up with fingertips that feel far too clumsy as it tumbles to the laminate with a muted clatter.

It’s almost disappointing how easy it is to swallow down something that means so much with only a mouthful of water.

Kurogane is already in bed by the time Fai finishes brushing his teeth and runs a comb through the damp tangles of his hair, his husband reclining back against the massive stack of pillows he claims he doesn’t need but totally steals from Fai every damn night, and reading in the buttery lamplight with one arm thrown out across Fai’s side of the mattress; he looks up when Fai steps into the room, closing the door and locking it behind him, Kurogane nudging his thin-framed glasses down on his nose and dropping his manga facedown onto the doona covering his lap. “You took a while.”

Fai hears the _are you okay?_ as though it were said out loud, and he huffs a soft laugh. “I’m fine, Kuro-pon.” And he is, mostly. “Just… had to work myself up to it, that’s all.”

Kurogane makes a _hmm_ noise and slips his glasses off, tucking them away in their hard case and closing it with a loud _snap_. The bedcovers snap open too, his husband flinging the blankets wide as he puts his manga up on the bedside table – bookmark nestled snugly between its pages, one of many volumes stacked beside their bed next to Fai’s own night-time reading and just one more thing that makes this room the most comfortable in the whole house – and beckoning to Fai with one big hand. “Come here,” says Kurogane, and his fingers are warm and rough as they curl around Fai’s own, tugging him down without a fight and pulling him in close.

For the first time since his three o’clock doctor’s appointment, Fai feels something like safe. It’s easy to let himself be folded into that embrace, and Fai closes his eyes and turns his face into the slope of Kurogane’s throat as the warm covers are tugged up and over him, smoothed down heavily as big feet bump up against his own down the end of the mattress, toes curling against his as their legs tangle together in the sheets. “Hey,” says Kurogane, and nothing else, and for a long moment Fai hears the soft burr of that much-loved voice ringing through him like a bell struck, something warm and fluttering unspooling in his chest where before it was knotted tight. It’s not until Kurogane’s thumb finds the edge of his ear and strokes along it slowly, tucking the damp strands of hair that tickle Fai’s cheek behind it, that he can even manage to look up and the man whose own heartbeat is a slow and thudding pressure against Fai’s panicked and heaving ribs. “ _Hey_.”

“This is _stupid_ ,” hisses Fai, squeezing the words out even as his eyes squeeze shut, and the tears that he refuses to let fall pool in stinging droplets on his sticky eyelashes. “It’s a _fucking tablet_ , it’s not like I need to jab myself with a _needle_ or anything– ”

“You are,” says Kurogane, and the slow gravity of his words is almost painful to bear up under, “the bravest man I know.” _God_. It’s not something Fai can accept as truth but _Kurogane doesn’t lie_ , so he has no choice but to; and there’s nothing but surety in the hand that finds his bare back beneath the sheets, drifting up with the warm scrape of callused fingertips and the weighty press of Kurogane’s broad palm across his spine. These hands have held him up, lifted him to his feet when he could not stand; whispered soft against his cheek and pressed heavy against the heart that even now threatens to beat out of his chest, and Fai’s breath stutters at the meaning and the _love_ in the voice that whispers into the crown of his head, words trickling as cool and soothingly through his hair as rainwater ever did. “And I will never see you any differently than I do right now.”

“You can’t say–”

“Just did,” says Kurogane flatly, with the tone of voice built for denying small children sweets and commanding dogs to sit and stay. No wonder he’s a _teacher_ , fuck. No way Fai can even try to argue with that. “For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health - and I meant every damn word of it.”

Fai's breath catches, trembles, flutters wet and sore in his tight throat. _I love you so much. I do, I do._ “I don’t. I don’t know how long I’ll have to–”

“As long as you need to,” says Kurogane firmly, and the sheets rustle as he lifts his hand to flick off the lamp, plunging the room into velvet gloom. “Gotta set a broken bone properly for it to mend clean, and this isn’t any different. Even if it takes years, I’ll be here, and you won’t do this alone. You were _never_ doing this alone, from the moment I met you.”

No empty platitude, that, and eight years and thousands of memories crowd the inside of Fai’s eyelids with flickers of light and the heartful shudder of love in his aching chest makes it easier to breathe than he could dare to hope. “I don’t deserve you,” he mumbles, and earns himself a lovetap of a smack on the shoulder, his husband grumbling in the dark even as he shoves pillows about and rolls them both over, spooning up warm behind Fai with those big hands heavy on his belly and that stubborn chin dropping on top of his head, Kurogane’s lips catching soft on the hair that tickles against his cheek.

“You deserve all the love you are given,” is the murmur, and if Fai can only hear these words and believe them in the safe, dark space made in this soft bed and with this man wrapped around him, then so be it. He’s not strong enough to hear them in the light yet, but he will be. He will be.

“I want to get better,” Fai says to the wall, and sighs into the kiss pressed to his temple. It’s not the first time he’s said it out loud, but it is the first time he can start to believe it. “I am _going_ to get better. The medication will help me.” It’s hard to say –hard to admit, even now, even with the faith that has been given into his hands, even with the support that has been offered – but it’s _important_ , and it shudders home into his bones in a way that promises healing to come. “Stay with me?”

Another kiss, softer and longer than the first. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a few years ago, when a friend of mine had taken the first and bravest step towards seeking help to treat their mental illness, and since I have always used my writing to say what I have difficulty expressing on my own, I wanted to show them that they were then and will always be the same person I care for in my eyes.
> 
> As someone who has lived my whole life with depression and severe anxiety from childhood abuse, trauma and genetic disposition, and who many years to start to take care of myself with medication and appropriate psychological help, I have been here before. And it gets better, I promise you. You are stronger than you know, and you are loved. Believe me.


End file.
